Chefs long for simplicity when they eat out: a nice grilled steak, a baked potato, a scoop of vanilla ice cream. That's because they spend most of their day creating usually complicated fare intended to dazzle their customers, and they need a break from their craft.
That must explain why I've seen many of our better-known chefs dining at The Tillerman. This charming roadhouse, open for more than 20 years, specializes in steaks, fish and resolutely American comfort food, alongside an intelligent wine list well-stocked with boutique choices from countries as far-flung as Spain, Argentina and South Africa.
(On my last visit, I had a bottle of 2000 Remelluri, a rioja and a steal at $45. An even better deal at $25 is the Terrazas de Las Andes malbec from Argentina.)
It's especially pretty in here now, because owner Mark DiMartino has placed Christmassy flowerpots on all the sideboards and strung his trademark ficus trees with lights, imparting a soft, yellow glow to the room.
His veritable grove of ficuses soar to the high ceiling, so it's almost as if you are dining in a forest. But the wood-paneled dining room is elegantly fitted with black-leather booths, white tablecloths and a pair of stained- glass portals, giving it the feel of being in someone's living room.
The mood, generally, is equally informal. Regulars come in for drinks at the bar, which is separate from the main dining room. After that, they repair to a table and are greeted by servers with baskets of hot ciabatta bread.
Later, comes The Tillerman's famed salad bar, included with all entrées, a lazy Susan stocked with both romaine and iceberg lettuce; marinated, stuffed green olives; a zucchini and red pepper salad; tiny, halved cherry tomatoes bathed in oil and garlic; and a side dish of garbanzo beans. The house dressing is balsamic vinaigrette, so it's not hard to become quickly sated. But there is an incentive to be moderate. Most of the dishes are hearty and generous, priced well below those in equivalent restaurants on the Strip.
Starters run to a variety of hot and cold shellfish, good homemade soups, and a few treats like spicy Thai calamari with lemon crisps, or my personal fave here, crackling baby back ribs, Asian style, accompanied by a hot sweet-chili dipping sauce.
One evening, there was a rich cream of portabella mushroom soup, smooth and velvety but too imposing to finish. DiMartino's Italian roots surface also occasionally, as in crisp, fresh mozzarella with Roma tomato salad: a golden-brown orb of crunchy cheese perfect for pairing with the house bread.
From the cold shellfish list, choose tiny, flavorsome Malpeque oysters from Canada. A good bet from the hot list is grilled shrimp with garlic, chipotle pepper and avocado, or if you like a nice crab cake, the house crispy-fried crab cake, but make sure to tell the server that you want it hot.
As in many top restaurants, entrées often are less distinguished than their predecessors, meaning the appetizers. That can be true here, too, though there are many choices to knock your socks off. Alaskan halibut is one, a nice piece of fish simply broiled and served with a very correct pesto. The more indulgent can choose Portofino, seafood linguine loaded to the gills with clams, mussels, shrimp, scallops and lobster, all afloat in a classic white wine and garlic sauce.
Meats aren't neglected, either, although their prices are on par with those in steakhouses all over the city. The best choice is a 24-ounce, blackened, bone-in rib eye, since it is a dollar less than the restaurant's 12-ounce filet mignon. Double-cut pork chops are delicious when smeared with the maple-mustard vinaigrette served on the side. I even saw one chef dining on an off-menu spaghetti pomodoro. I didn't taste it but it looked pretty authentic from where I was sitting.
You'll want to order a few side dishes, as well. I like the lightly sautéed spinach, leaves with their stems on, tossed with cubes of potato and sweet white onion. Creamy mashed potatoes and beer-battered onion rings are just fine, thank you. So are shoestring potatoes, as light and crisp as you have the right to expect.
For dessert, the standout is an eggy, not cloyingly sweet vanilla bread pudding, cleverly employing Hawaiian sweet bread but without, ostensibly, much added sugar. Pick-Me-Up is English for its now better-known moniker, tiramisu, and this one is fairly standard and competent: espresso-soaked ladyfingers held up by a mascarpone cheese mousse. I'd also recommend the warm apple crisp, served with Breyer's vanilla ice cream, though you can have the ice cream plain, just like a chef might want, too.
The Tillerman didn't survive all these years on vanilla ice cream alone, though.